Awake
by Lord Kristine
Summary: Rebecca Glass regains consciousness in a hospital. She does not know why she is there, but she gets the feeling she's about to find out . . .
1. Chapter 1

_Alright, start the dialysis now. Don't use more than eleven milligrams. We don't know what dosage she needs, and too much could kill her._

 _That'd be a shame._

 _I will not tolerate such remarks._

 _Oh, come on, I was just kidding! I wouldn't sacrifice my career for this bag of slime._

 _Blood pressure normal._

 _I'm gonna have to ask you to leave. You're clearly not the right person for this procedure. A doctor does not judge._

 _Fine. Who should I send in?_

 _No one, unless something goes wrong. And don't insult the patient ever again._

 _I don't know what you're so worried about. She can't hear me._

 _She can hear you, but she doesn't understand. There's a difference._

 _Yeah, alright. Let me know how it goes._

 _Her heart rate is accelerating._

 _That's normal. The serum is working._

 _Are her eyes supposed to be doing that?_

 _Yes. Just don't let her disconnect from the IV. The fluid needs to enter her steadily, or she could go into shock._

 _She looks pretty shocked right now._

 _Yes, I imagine this can't be easy. It'll be worse when she's conscious- Hold her down!_

 _I'm trying! I thought she was sedated!_

 _She is, but we couldn't give her too much, or the treatment wouldn't work properly._

 _Okay, she seems to be calming down. How much longer?_

 _Only-_

"-eleven minutes, worst case scenario. She appears to be doing well, however. It shouldn't be much longer."

She's awake. She's awake and she's in an unfamiliar place. She wants to run. She wants to break free and-

"Shhh, shhh. It's okay. We're not gonna hurt you."

"Don't touch her face like that. It might confuse her. In all likelihood, she doesn't remember what happened."

She's naked. _Is_ she naked? It _feels_ like she is, but something is off about her skin.

"Do you think she can understand us?"

"Maybe. She looks more or less aware. Try communicating with her, but don't say anything upsetting. We can't risk a panic attack."

"Hello. Do you understand me? Are you awake, Ms. Glass?"

Is that her name? It sounds right, but there's something else . . .

"Hello? Rebecca, can you understand me?"

Rebecca. That's the other part. That makes her Rebecca . . . Glass. But what do those words _mean_?

"Ms. Glass?"

Glass. Glass, like the stuff in windows? Wait, what's a window? Why doesn't she know this? Is that normal? What's she supposed to know?

"Rebecca? . . . Rebecca? . . ."

Is that even a real word? Words are supposed to be things, but there's no such thing as a Rebecca. This lady must mean something else.

"Rebecca?"

Maybe she means breakfast. That almost sounds the same. Breakfast is the thing you eat in the morning. Is it morning? What's a window? . . .

"Should she be speaking by now?"

"Give it time. She's probably confused."

She feels anger burning in the pit of her stomach. Why? She's not sure, exactly, but she has a feeling that something bad was said about her. Was it that she was probably? No, there was more. Probably . . . confused. Confused is the bad part. She's not confused. Well, maybe she is. She doesn't remember what that word means . . .

"Rebecca, if you understand what I'm saying, blink twice."

"That won't work. She needs to respond verbally. That way, we know she's aware."

"Alright. Can you do that, Rebecca? Can you speak?"

Yes, as a matter of fact, she can. She remembers being able to talk. Wait, why can't she do it now? Maybe she can. She just needs to remember how . . .

"I think she's trying."

"Could be, or else she's just spooked. Ask her to say something simple."

"Like what?"

"A word with sharp consonants. Usually, they aren't able to form B's and similar sounds right away. They need to learn how to work their mouths."

In the time he takes to say this, she's been trying to remember how to speak. It has something to do with sending air out of one's mouth: she's sure of it.

"Why's she breathing like that?"

"No idea."

Wait. Speaking is sound. She can make sound.

"Is she in pain?"

"I don't think so."

Different sounds. Not just one. What kind of a sound does a person make?

"Should we be worried?"

"No, I've seen this behavior before. Nothing new."

New . . . New . . . New!

 _New_.

"Oh my god, she spoke!"

"If you can call that speaking. Keep her going. Encourage her."

Someone is close to her now.

"Hello. I think you understand me, Ms. Glass. Do you understand me? Answer yes or no."

 _No_.

"Um . . ."

"That's good. She's getting better. She's just a little mixed up, that's all."

 _No! No! . . . NOT!_

"What does _that_ mean?"

"I don't know, but calm her down. We only have a minute left."

"Okay. Listen, Rebecca. I know this may come as a shock, but you've been unconscious for two years."

Unconscious? . . . No, that can't be right. She has memories. Just this morning, she was in a truck- Wait, why was she in the back? That's not how she's supposed to ride a truck. There was no seatbelt, no seat . . . Why was she eating from the ceiling? Something isn't right. But _why_ isn't it right? Deep down, she knows the answer. She _knows_ it. But it's all so fuzzy . . .

"There was debate as to whether or not you should be cured, but the council decided it would be inhumane to let you-"

 _What_.

"What? What do you mean, 'what'?"

 _What. Say again._

"The council decided not to let you-"

 _Word. Say word._

". . . Which one? . . ."

 _In. In . . . In . . ._

"In? . . . Oh, inhumane?"

Yes, that's the one. There's something about that word, something significant. What _is_ it? She can't quite put her finger-

Fingers. That's important. Before everything turned fuzzy, she remembers looking at her fingers and-

No, that can't be right. They don't look like that. But why not? What's going on?

 _Help_.

"Yes, we're doing our best to help you, but we need you to stay calm. What's the last thing you remember?"

The last thing she remembers? Well, she remembers coming here in a truck, but she has a feeling the doctor is referring to something else. She's supposed to say what happened before everything turned fuzzy. Well, she remembers her fingers and-

THAT STUPID BOY

Wait, what was that? She remembers the feeling, but she doesn't seem to recall the details of-

YOU DID THIS TO ME

He did this to her. Did what? Who _was_ he? And why-

please make it stop don't let it happen this way I promise I'll do anything

She remembers begging for her life. She wasn't dying, exactly, but she might as well have been . . .

"Rebecca?"

 _Innocent_.

"Who is?"

"Three syllables. We're making progress. See if you can get her to form sentences."

 _I'm innocent_ . . .

"Does that count?"

She is breathing faster now.

 _I'm innocent. I'm . . . Rebecca Glass, and I . . . I'm not supposed to be here._

"Stay calm. I'm gonna need you to take deep breaths, hon."

 _No. No, this isn't right. I shouldn't be here._

"Listen to me. You're sick. You need to count to ten and-"

"GET YOUR HANDS OF ME, YOU DISGUSTING ANIMAL!"

There is barely a microsecond of hesitation between the words leaving her mouth and her springing forward. Plastic tubes are ripped from her neck, but she ignores the pain and knocks the female doctor over. The male makes a leap for her, but she's already out the door. She scurries down the hallway, dizzy and disoriented. Nurses and patients dive out of her way, alerted by her screams of fury and fear. She knocks over cots and computers in her rampage. The doctors are desperate to stop her. She does not relent.

She charges down sterile corridors, heart palpitating faster than it ought to, but slower than it should. The fluorescent light hurts her eyes. Everything is white. It's like a dream, only she's sure she just woke up from a nightmare.

Then, she sees it. The exit. The darkness is broken only by the glow of orange street lamps: the kind they use in small towns, where they can't afford to upgrade. So she's in the middle of nowhere, but that's not important right now. She needs to escape. She needs to be free.

When she reaches for the door handle, Rebecca freezes in place. For a moment, the world stops turning. That's when she realizes that she has not woken up from her nightmare: it's only just begun. The doctors have caught up with her, bringing security guards with them. She hears the staff coming, but does not turn to look at them. Her eyes are fixed on the ghostly reflection in the glass door: a face that is not hers, but copies her every movement. Right now, it wears an expression that is a mix of horror, disbelief, and disgust. The male doctor approaches her slowly, like a zookeeper cornering an escaped hippo.

"I realize this comes as a shock, but we need your full cooperation. All we want to do is talk. Can we do that? Can we talk?"

Rebecca backs away from the glass without breaking eye contact, as though she expects the monster in the reflection to attack at any moment.

"This isn't happening . . . This isn't happening . . ."

"I'm sorry. I know it's hard to wrap your head around-"

"Who _did_ this? Who did this to me?"

From the corner of the room, another doctor sneers.

" _You_ did, actually. It's nobody's fault but your own."

The first doctor points at him in warning.

"Not another word out of you!"

He turns back to Rebecca, lifting his hands in a gesture that is a mix between surrender and defense.

"Ms. Glass, I'm gonna need you to come back to your room without protest. I know there's a lot on your mind right now, but if you cause trouble, it's going to come back to bite you."

"Already has," says the third doctor.

The first doctor shoots him a threatening glare, but the female doctor shakes her head and waddles over to Rebecca, kneeling a few feet in front of her.

"Hey. It's going to be okay. The same thing happened to me a year ago. I know it's scary, but you'll get used to it, I promise."

Rebecca eyes the doctor with disbelief. The calmness in the girl's eyes makes her neutral mien contort into a sneer.

"You're disgusting, you know that?"

"I-"

"No, don't you _dare_ defend yourself. You're nothing more than a savage monster. You and your kind should have _stayed_ extinct."

The female doctor runs her hand over her crest, then turns to her partner for guidance.

"Um, a little help?"

The male steps in front of her to take her place in the negotiations.

"Ms. Glass, we're well aware of your attitude towards dinosaurs, but I strongly recommend you take the time to reevaluate and possibly reconsider your standpoint. In the two years you were unconscious, things have been changing faster than ever. As you may have guessed, we found a cure for the toxin you created, and have rehabilitated several individuals, including my associate, here. Regardless of what we are, Ms. Glass, it's our responsibility to get past our differences and accept each other for who we are. Sometimes, that includes putting the past behind us. I'm sure a good deal of former humans will forgive you for what you've done if you change your point of view. It will take some time, but if we try to understand each other, everything will turn out just fine."

Rebecca looks from the doctor to his partner, then at the third doctor in the corner of the room. She narrows her eyes when she notices that the security guards have their hands resting on their tasers. She snarls and gnashes her teeth.

"Fools! You think _I'm_ the one you have to worry about? How could you let a beast like _her_ work in a hospital?"

The parasaurolophus winces, and the male doctor spreads his arms protectively.

"I'll have you know that the only reason she's a dinosaur is because of what _you_ did, but even if that weren't the case, I see no logic in treating her like an animal. She's a person like you and me, and that's the end of it."

Rebecca laughs.

"God, you're so _stupid_. You think you can trust a dinosaur? _Look_ at her. She's covered in scales from head to toe!"

From the corner of the room, the third doctor scoffs.

"Sweetheart, I wouldn't go throwing stones at a glass house."

The silence is pregnant. Rebecca turns to face him slowly. Her leg muscles tense up, and she paws at the ground. Then, she gives a furious roar and charges at him, horns gleaming. Before she can drive them through his treacherous heart, the security guards unholster their weapons and shock her. She collapses heavily, making the glass table on the other side of the room rattle. Before she's dragged away, the parasaurolophus passes by and gives her a look of disdain.

"I heard stories about you, but I didn't want to believe them. I wish I had known your critics were right about you all along. I wasted far too much time finding the words to say I forgive you. Now, I'm not sure if I do. _I've_ accepted who I am, but _you_ . . . You're just despicable."

This comment has no effect.


	2. Chapter 2

Rebecca wondered if it was common for people to be interrogated immediately after leaving the hospital. Perhaps that was true of criminals, but she was no criminal. All she wanted was a world free from the blight of dinosaurs. On a paper, it sounded harsh, but there was more to it than so-called bigotry. The integration of lesser species had cost the world dearly, setting civilization back a good hundred years and practically destroying the economy, all in the name of what the pro-dinosaurs called "equality". Rebecca knew better than to believe in such things, because the unpleasant truth was that not all animals were born equal. Scratch that. Animals _could_ be born equal, but their uncivilized nature prevented them from being worthy of the rights granted to humans. Dinosaurs were nothing more than fat, stupid beasts who ate more than their share and refused to earn their keep on the planet. What's more, they complained about it constantly. "We don't have hands!" they'd say. "Your buildings are too small!" they'd whine. Well, too bad! If dinosaurs couldn't work in the world, the world shouldn't accommodate them. It was simple logic. But it didn't matter, of course, because as soon as a person pointed out these facts, they'd be labeled as a racist (not that dinosaurs ought to be considered a race, anyway). Rebecca couldn't count the number of times she'd been forced to list off statistics about how most crimes were committed by raptors, how taxpayers lost a significant amount of their income due to the reparations given to dinosaurs who had lived through war and genocide, and were more than happy to milk it for all it was worth (speaking of which, it might be a good idea to confirm that she still had the right numbers after two years). These goddamn scalies had infested the world like a plague, nearly causing the collapse of society. Entitled assholes. The idea of purebred humans becoming a rarity was a terrifying notion, considering how well dinosaurs had fared the last time they were the dominant species. It was enough to make a person wish for a second meteor. A cosmic reset button was better than a slow decline into primitive culture.

And yet, despite all this evidence, less intelligent humans had the gall to lump Rebecca and her associates into the category of "racial supremacists" or even "ethnic terrorists". The latter was especially insulting. By all accounts, humans could not be terrorists. The _real_ terrorists were the bloodthirsty raptors who attacked purebreds in the night, or else tyrannosaurs who were more than happy to crush those who didn't accept their barbaric ideology. Rebecca was speaking out against these groups, but somehow, _she_ was the terrorist? The state of the world was utterly backwards!

But political action would have to wait. For now, she planned to keep a low profile. Not only would she have the media breathing down her neck like before, but it would be made a million times worse now that she was a dinosaur, herself.

Well, physically, anyway.

The very thought repulsed her, but she took comfort in knowing that she had the intelligence to eventually cure herself of this disgusting shape. Living as an animal would only be a temporary smudge on the pages of her story, and she'd make up for it in chapters to come.

And so, she waited for her interrogator, praying that the state wouldn't send in some torture-happy hupia or violent stegger. Thankfully, the man they sent to question her was human, so there was a smaller chance of prejudice against her actions. He sat across from her at a table in the center of a plain room, like she was in some sort of police movie. He smiled pleasantly, though Rebecca got the impression he didn't particularly want to be there.

"Good morning, Ms. Glass. Sleep well?"

"No, actually. It's kind of hard to doze off knowing that your life has turned to shit."

He raised his eyebrows.

"Well, that doesn't necessarily have to be the case. Many people who are cured start out feeling like the world is going to come crashing down, but they're usually rehabilitated within a month or two."

Rebecca laughed.

"With all due respect, I won't be 'cured' until I'm human."

The man gave a bit of a wince.

"I'm afraid we don't have the technology to do that yet. Even so, living as a dinosaur doesn't have to be a struggle. If there's anything that would make you more comfortable-"

"I'd like some clothing, for starters, and perhaps a temporary pair of prescription glasses. Nothing too fancy: just enough to get me by while I figure out how to change back."

He folded his hands.

"Perhaps you misunderstood me when I said that we don't possess the technology to change you back. I'm saying it's unlikely that you'll be human again within the next twenty years, if not for the rest of your life."

She snuffed and rolled her eyes.

"Honey, I found a way to make humans herbivores: I can undo this bastardization of nature in the blink of an eye."

He gave her a serious look.

"Ms. Glass, I'm afraid that your access to scientific equipment will be severely limited. If you're not completely forbidden from experimentation, you will do it under heavy supervision. That's only if you're assigned a mild sentence after your trial next week."

"My trial?" she echoed.

"Yes, I'm afraid two years of non-sentience won't get you off the hook for what you've done. That's why I'm here, actually. We need to sort out the facts to prepare you for the big day."

"So this is like a pre-trial?"

"More or less. For now, we're going to review your case, and when the time comes, you will be assigned a lawyer. There's no need to worry about cost: they'll give you someone competent free of charge."

Rebecca frowned, eyes darting back and forth rapidly.

"But I'm perfectly capable of hiring- Wait, what happened to my estate?"

"Your residence was left as it is, under the condition that the property tax was covered by your own assets. You haven't lost significant funds, considering you weren't exactly using heat and water for the past two years, but you weren't making money either."

"Where was I living if I wasn't at home?"

"State-owned land. You were well taken care of, I promise."

As she thought back to her somewhat muddled impressions of those missing years, Rebecca wondered if he was being euphemistic or downright ignorant. Her memories were clouded by the fog of her saurian brain, but she seemed to recall living on a ranch. The workers fed her grain and hay, she remembered, with the occasional carrot thrown in to mix things up. In the middle of winter, she had been given a large salad- that was probably Christmas- and she received an apple in November, so they had at least remembered her birthday. That being said, this treatment was hardly what she would call "well taken care of", since she was basically livestock. That would be fine if she was a dinosaur, but even though she was stuck in an unfamiliar body and had been a drooling brute until yesterday, she was essentially a human being, and deserved to be treated as such. To think that she had been kept in a barn was humiliating, not to mention the possibility that during her out-years she may have given the impression that she deserved it. In a way, it was good that she could barely remember that time, because she'd rather not know how many people had seen her in her sorry state, especially if she had been acting like a nonhuman. How could her associates respect her, knowing she'd drooled upon smelling grass, defecated haphazardly, and- oh god- was she alone on the ranch? She remembered other herbivores, but thankfully, she had no memory of mating with any, which meant that she had been spared one embarrassment. Hopefully.

"I'll get everything back when this is over, right?"

"Maybe. Again, you'll be under the watchful eye of the government, not to mention anti defamation leagues and special interest groups. In all likelihood, you'll get most of it back, but as for what you do with it . . ."

Rebecca sneered.

"So the government is preventing me from doing my job? They think they can just take away my rights?"

"Well, that's where it gets a bit sketchy. See, they wouldn't be able to do it under normal circumstances, but considering your extremist actions-"

" _What_ extremist actions?"

He began to flip through her files sardonically.

"Well, let's see: you promoted anti-saurian behavior, actively endorsing and financially supporting the Triple Eleven, which is officially classified as a hate group."

"Yeah, but-"

"You conducted illegal experiments involving chemicals that altered the physical and mental states of non-consenting humans, whom you injected with a toxin that would have left them as permanently brainless dinosaurs, had we not found a way to reverse the cerebral effects of the drug."

"Yeah, but-"

"You used said toxin to infect innocent people in order to inspire fear, making the already-oppressed dinosaur groups the target of elitists and human-supremacists, all based on a lie that would not have been spread were it not for your actions."

"YEAH, BUT-"

"Most importantly, you fanned the flames of hatred, showing no compassion to your victims in favor of furthering your cause at all costs, even going so far as to eliminate your right hand man, Bo Steel, with whom you shared a romantic relationship at the time. Is this not true?"

It was absolutely true. Of course, there was more to it than that, but on paper, her actions didn't look very flattering. The last one was especially questionable. It kind of made her look like a backstabbing bitch, actually. That being said, it wasn't exactly easy to double-cross her lover. The decision to sacrifice him had kept her up for many nights, but in the end, she chose to pursue a higher goal instead of throwing away years of progress in the name of one man. Still, the look of betrayal in his eyes as she drove the needle into his shoulder would forever haunt her, as well as his final question: "Why?". She'd never know for sure if he was simply asking her why she had turned on him, or if his words held some deeper meaning about their shared mission and whether or not it had all been worth it. Probably not. He wasn't exactly a deep-thinker, so his comment was most likely personal rather than philosophical. Rebecca was the center of Bo's world, and he undoubtedly considered her more important than the mission. He probably assumed that she felt the same way about him . . . until those last few moments, of course. But he did not hate her for what she did. Even as his last shreds of humanity faded away, he kept his eyes fixed on her, as though she was the last thing he hoped to remember. He tried to say something more, she recalled, but was unable to do so as he changed. Whatever he meant to tell her didn't sound malevolent or bitter (not that she could interpret the intonation of moos perfectly). Perhaps he had been trying to say "I love you", or "I'll be fine". "I forgive you" was less likely and "You did the right thing" was improbable. That being said, she was certain he could find it in his heart to accept an apology if she gave him one.

Bo would bend over backwards to make her happy; his loyalty was second to none. He'd love Rebecca even if she tossed a box of newborn puppies into lava, and he'd no doubt defend her actions with such avid dedication that her critics would believe him for his passion alone. And yes, it made her feel shitty when she thought about how she had taken advantage of his trust, but hey, as long as nothing went wrong the next time, they could pick up where they left off and not have to worry about another incident. So that was one bit of good news: she'd have Bo to help her through this rough patch. The government had undoubtedly restored his consciousness by now, so all that was left was finding a way to change back.

"How _is_ Bo? Did they cure him?"

"They tried."

"Tried? What do you mean, 'tried'? Did the cure not work? Is something wrong with him? Is he still an animal?"

"I'm afraid he didn't respond to the serum properly, and the reaction was too much for him to handle. He's been dead for just over a year."

Rebecca felt her heart plummet.

"What?"

"I'm sorry."

Her scales began to crawl.

"No, it can't be true. I mean . . . Are you _sure_?"

"Dead is dead. It's kind of hard to deny that."

Rebecca choked a little.

"But if they cured a dinosaur, how did they know it was him?"

"Well, first of all, the people taking care of him had documents that confirmed his identity, just like all the other herbivores, and second, before he died, he was able to speak a little."

"What did he say?"

"That's confidential."

Rebecca stared into the corner of the room vacantly.

"So, he's really gone? . . ."

"I'm afraid so. If you want closure, I can give you the location of his burial site-"

"No. No, that's okay. I believe you."

"Right. We can provide you with contacts for your other associates- the ones that aren't in jail, at least-"

"I don't want anyone to see me like this."

He gave her a long, blank stare.

"Ms. Glass, I have to remind you that-"

"-this is permanent. I know. I think you're wrong."

"We'll have to agree to disagree on that point."

"Fine."

He turned the page of a stapled document.

"There's one more thing . . . You may recall that during your career, you made a lot of enemies. Near the end-"

"Don't beat around the bush. Just tell me."

He frowned.

"Before you changed, you were confronted by a group of hybrids that hoped to expose your plot. They were offered the chance to apply for restraining orders, but none of them took it."

"Why not?"

"Different reasons for each, I assume. None of them said anything about it, with the exception of Parker Blackstripes and Susan DeNim."

"And what did they say?"

"Well, the quote is from Mr. Blackstripes, but the two of them are married now-"

"So neither of them took the other's name?"

"She did, but these documents are outdated in certain areas. Anyway, Mr. Blackstripes said- and I quote- 'She won't hurt anyone now. Her mind is at peace. In spite of everything she did, I almost feel sorry for her'."

Rebecca sneered at this condescending remark.

"I don't suppose he apologized for making me this way?"

"Actually, our documents state very clearly that you changed because Miss DeNim shot the heel off your shoe, causing you to stumble backwards into your equipment and cut yourself on a broken beaker that had been filled with the toxin. Clumsy, clumsy."

Rebecca growled.

"Anyway, Blackstripes _did_ provide an updated statement when it was announced that you would be cured," the man continued, "He said that he's willing to disclose his address in case you decide to change your ways, but he doubts that it will ever happen."

He slid a small box across the table.

"His phone number is in there. Kind of dramatic. I think he's hoping for an apology."

Rebecca snorted.

"He won't get one. He's a filthy hybrid, and he ought to be jailed instead of me."

"Fine thing to say, considering he helped your case. Not only did he vote to have you woken up, but he also suggested that your identity remain protected so that you could start your life anew."

"I don't _want_ to start anew," Rebecca retorted, "I want my _old_ life back."

"That's not realistic at this point."

Suddenly, Rebecca stood up, knocking over her chair with her tail.

"Don't you _dare_ tell me that I can't go back to the way things were! I had two years of my life stolen by those dinosaurs, and I want them back!"

The door opened. Two guards came in to restrain her, using a capture noose. She mooed in distress as she was dragged backwards out of the room. Before the door closed, the man closed his dossier and smiled pleasantly.

"It was nice talking to you, Ms. Glass. Bit of advice: try toning it down in court."

And he was gone.

Rebecca gave up on fighting the guards and instead let herself be shepherded to a holding room, where they released her and slammed the door. She wheeled around in panic, realizing that she had no further instructions.

"Hey, wait! How long do you plan to keep me in here?"

No reply.

Rebecca banged on the door with her front foot, rattling the hinges.

"Are you listening? I at least deserve an answer! I'm not a criminal! I've done nothing wrong!"

They did not respond. Rebecca snorted and pawed at the ground angrily, then took to pacing. There wasn't much room to do so, but that didn't matter. She was like a caged polar bear, and for a good fifteen minutes, she moved in this troubled pattern with a deep scowl creasing her brow.

Then, gradually, as she began to realize that no one was coming for her, she slowed down, and her frown gave way to a look of worry. She was suddenly aware of how quiet the room was . . . how cold. There was no furniture, no windows, and no way of knowing how long she would be locked away.

As timid as a mouse, Rebecca shrunk away from the door and backed into the corner of the room. She sat shivering, listening for anyone or anything, but all she could hear was the ambient noise of air, which in all likelihood was a fabrication of her mind.

Frightened and more alone than ever, Rebecca curled up like a dog, shaking as if she was about to cry, but refusing to do so.


	3. Chapter 3

The night seemed to last forever. Rebecca slept as much as she could, but there came a point when she realized that no matter how long she sat with her eyes closed, she wouldn't drift off again. Although she was bored, her heart trembled with dread. She knew that she'd be put through hell in this upcoming trial, even two years after the initial incident. If she had one regret, it was that she should have been more careful. Near the end, she got sloppy, and that's how those hooligans caught on to what she was doing. Of course, there was always next time.

Someone did come for her, eventually. A young girl with a blonde ponytail opened her cell and leaned against the doorframe, eyes glued to her phone the whole time. She popped her gum and nodded to the left.

"Car's waiting."

Rebecca crept past her, wondering if this teenager really had the authority to bring her to court. Apparently, yes, because a black van was parked outside the building. As Rebecca approached the vehicle, a ramp slid out of the rear, and she realized that they did not intend to give her a real seat. She turned to the blonde girl with a rigid smile.

"Hi, excuse me . . . I don't think it's decent to- Whoah!"

The man in the passenger seat had snuck up behind her, and used a wooden rod to urge her forward. She bit her lower beak and trotted up into the van, not wanting to argue with him. Judging by the lump under his shirt, he was armed.

The girl slammed the doors shut as Rebecca opened her mouth to ask a question, and it became impossible to see. The engine began to hum, and suddenly, Rebecca was knocked off her feet. She stood up with embarrassment and brushed herself off a little, but stopped when she sensed the texture of her hands . . . not that they were hands anymore. It would be better, she thought, to avoid getting accustomed to this new shape.

It was a sunny day, Rebecca realized as they opened the doors, nearly searing her eyes in the process. The warmth was a welcomed change, but she was made uneasy by the crowds that had gathered to enjoy the weather. Men, women, and children were frolicking in the park across the street from the courthouse, and although none of them seemed particularly interested in Rebecca, she expected her return would not go unnoticed. It was a good thing they'd ferried her to the building before the press arrived. She didn't yet feel equipped to deal with those vultures.

As Rebecca was guided to a secluded room, she ran over possible methods of swaying the jury. She was well-versed in antisaurian rhetoric, but her facts needed updating and her knowledge of current affairs was two years behind. Still, the foundation of her argument would always ring true.

The designated waiting area was quite large, and somewhat resembled a cross between an office and a library, but had a very elegant feel overall. On a table in the center of the room, Rebecca found the clothing she'd asked for, as well as a pair of glasses, fresh in the case. They were quite fancy, she thought, and it was unfortunate that she wouldn't get much use out of them, seeing how she was not going to be a dinosaur forever. As she dressed herself, she practiced bits of dialogue to pass the time.

"Ladies and gentlemen, look to your left and right. You'll notice that you have several things in common with your neighbors."

She rolled nylons up her legs.

"We all have eyes, ears, mouths, noses . . . everything that makes us capable of thriving in this world."

She slipped into her high heels.

"But you'll also notice that we have many differences. Horns, crests, frills . . . these are deformities assigned to animals, and animals alone. Humans are above these corporeal tools, as we have evolved to live in civilized society."

She strutted across the room, tying a shawl around her neck.

"Dinosaurs are not bred to live like humans. They vary greatly in size, shape, and mind. How can we allow such monsters to walk among us?"

Oh, it felt beautiful to make speeches again.

"Unlike humans, dinosaurs require special accommodations to meet the standards of what we consider 'normal'," she declared as she put on her glasses, "They ask for more than what they deserve, leeching resources from hard-working humans."

She sat on the back of a leather couch and rolled onto it, posing gracefully.

"There is no such thing as human supremacy: it is a _fact_ that we were born to rule over animals, and dinosaur are . . . are . . ."

A mirror had entered her line of sight. It drew her in like a magnet, making her forget what she had been planning to say. In any case, it might not do her much good to spout pro-human monologues, considering her current appearance. This was the first time she'd seen herself clearly, and it was far from pleasant. She slipped off the couch, walking slowly towards the unfamiliar dinosaur who stared back at her with timid eyes.

She was mostly purple: a gentle hue that reminded her of the mountains she used to paint in first grade. Her feet, belly, and jaw were an ugly shade of pink, perhaps comparable to embryos or raspberry ice cream. She had a tail, of course, and fewer toes than she was hoping, not that they were all that easy to see under her massive belly. And her face- oh god, her face- was the worst part. Aside from the brown frill that rose from her head like a mitre, she had two horns on her brow, two on her cheeks, and one big, fat spike right in the middle of her snout. Instead of a nose, she had two holes on either side of her muzzle, and her lips had been replaced with a dark brown beak. She touched her horn-cheeks a little, opening her mouth to see if they moved with it, and examined a collection of new features that made her sick to her stomach. It was like wearing a scaly fat-suit.

"You're a Pentaceratops, in case you were wondering."

She turned and saw a hideous creature leaning against the doorframe. She had encountered his kind before: half human, half raptor, all monster. She snarled and stalked towards him, tail twitching against her will.

"I'm a human, actually, and I'll thank you not to call me names, _half-breed_."

He smirked.

"Who's calling who names, now?"

She snorted and pawed at the ground.

"Who let you in here? Don't you know that a court of law is no place for bottom-feeding mongrels?"

He laughed.

"Sweetheart, it's the _only_ place for them. I would know, seeing how I'm your lawyer."

Rebecca pulled her head back.

" _You?_ "

"Yes, me. Lionel Hartman, attorney at law. Graduated top of my class, or so I'm told. Honestly, I didn't pay much attention to my grades. I could talk my way into any degree I wanted."

Rebecca grumbled.

"It figures they'd send a piece of trash dinosaur to defend me."

"Half dinosaur."

"Like I care. Don't you half-breeds identify as dinosaurs, anyway? You're certainly not human."

"Neither are you, sweetheart."

She snarled and slammed her front feet against the hardwood.

"Haven't you been listening? I'm not a triceratops!"

"Pentaceratops."

"Same thing."

"They're really not, and if you don't make that distinction, you'll look like a bigot."

Rebecca lumbered over to the sofa.

"It's all the same to me," she grumbled, "What difference do a couple of horns make when you look like the love child of Satan and Clarabelle?"

She rolled onto the couch heavily, rumbling with aggravation. The hybrid lawyer strutted up to her, paws behind his back.

"You know, you oughta work on that temper of yours."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. It's unbecoming of a lady."

"That's sexist."

"Maybe, but it's not like I'm keen to impress you. I've seen a few members of the jury, and something tells me my after-trial tumbles will amount to more than a whale hunt."

Rebecca pulled her shawl over her chest.

"That's not fair. This isn't my body."

"It is now."

"No, it isn't. Just because I'm a dinosaur-"

"-doesn't mean you're a dinosaur? You're a clever one."

Rebecca snarled.

"I didn't choose to be this way."

"And you think any other dinosaur did?"

While she struggled to come up with a response, he opened his briefcase and began leafing through a pile of papers.

"Listen, honey, I'm no happier to be here than you are, but we have a case to win, so let's keep away from the messy stuff, alright?"

She narrowed her eyes.

"How do I know you won't sabotage my case to push your own agenda?"

He quirked a brow.

"Sweetheart, I'm no political activist. That's not to say I agree with your policies, but it's not my business to do that anyway. I'm here to win your case by any means necessary."

Rebecca scoffed.

"Oh, please. Do you expect me to believe that a half-breed like you is going to put any effort into winning a case for me?"

"I'm not doing it for you, honey. I'm the best lawyer in New World City, and if I want to keep that title, I can't lose this case. The government is paying me to defend you, and that's not gonna change, win or lose, so the only thing at stake is my reputation."

She wasn't about to buy this cur's garbage. Mutts like him were never sincere.

"If I go free, I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure people like you won't get free handouts. Does it not bother you that I'm going to restore society to the way it should be?"

"On my salary, I don't need your so-called handouts, and even if I did, I wouldn't be afraid. You can't do anything to harm me or people like me."

"You'd be surprised what my friends and I can do when we're unified."

He laughed.

"That's not what I meant. You have no power now. Who's gonna take a human supremacist seriously if they aren't even human?"

Suddenly, Rebecca charged towards him, roaring with fury. He leapt out of the way just in time, and Rebecca slammed into a decorative table, breaking a stained glass lamp. She stood over the mess, breathing heavily, while the lawyer spread his documents across the couch.

"Yep. Definitely not human."


	4. Chapter 4

Rebecca was led into the court with a rope tied around her neck like some common animal. They at least had the decency to use nylon, but that didn't make it any better. After an introduction filled with legal talk and other boring things Rebecca tuned out, they jumped right into the accusations. Her first instinct was to defend herself, but that slimy half-breed lawyer did most of the talking, ignoring her unhappy glances when he said something she didn't agree with. The judge (who was luckily human) stared down at the half-breed with a stern expression, and Rebecca wondered if he wasn't impressed with his defense or if he always looked like that. It was hard to tell, because while the judge appeared furious, the jury seemed bored out of their minds . . . probably because they were. Rebecca couldn't help but feel a little offended. They should be grateful to participate in her trial, given the fact that she'd made significant changes to their society- not just because of her serum, of course, as her contributions to several pharmaceutical advances had been widely celebrated. She was a key member of the scientific community, and that ought to be reason enough to set her free. A mind like hers could do the world some good in a time of cancer and human DIV. Even if they wouldn't allow her to fight the plague of dinosaur half-breeds, she ought to be given the chance to pursue a worthwhile cause. Of course, she'd have to change back first.

Rebecca shook her head rapidly and shifted her focus back to the trial. A long-necked sapisaur was at the stand. He had some ankylosaur features, so Rebecca guessed he wasn't one of her victims, unless two herbivores and a human had managed to breed and produce a fully-grown adult after two years, which seemed unlikely. He sat shyly at the stand, trying not to look at Rebecca, but failing to conceal his urge to do so. He stated his name, which Rebecca forgot immediately, then he leaned close to his microphone to compensate for his feeble voice.

"A year and a half ago, I was attacked by humans, who thought I was the offspring of a non-sentient herbivore and a human. There was no cure back then. They didn't know that herbivore DNA was passed down to me from a hybrid in my family, and my dinosaur qualities can be traced back many generations. The humans called me an abomination, slandering my name and accusing my mother of sleeping with a dinosaur to produce a bastard son."

Rebecca's lawyer stepped forward.

"Objection. This testimony is contradictory. How could humans accuse the witness of being the product of a human and nonsentient herbivore when those affected by Miss Glass' serum had just emerged?"

"They didn't seem to care about that," the hybrid growled, timidness melting away, "Humans will say all sorts of things to put a dinosaur down. They'll blame witchcraft or mutant genes or-"

"Objection! These generalizations are inconsequential and, quite frankly, unfounded."

" _You_ brought it up!" the witness argued.

The judge tapped his gavel.

"Order."

"But he-"

"Order!"

Rebecca frowned gently, sighing to herself. She wasn't sure why this mongrel blamed her for what random humans assumed his lineage entailed. They probably would have hated him even if they _hadn't_ known about the nonsentient herbivores, because all dinosaurs- sentient or not- were no better than animals. Any human-dinosaur coupling was inherently repulsive, regardless of context. It was practically bestiality. Humans who found themselves attracted to dinosaurs ought to get their heads checked. Even if love was indeed blind, there was a huge difference between caring about someone with, say, an overbite or acne, as opposed to tails and snouts. As for personality, dinosaurs were clearly lacking in that department as well, being the simple creatures they were. The world must be filled with perverts and sexual deviants.

The next person (and it _was_ a person this time) to come to the stand was a young girl. She had golden hair that fell over her shoulders in curls, and her name was Natalie. Rebecca noticed that there was something gentle in her gait, unlike the clumsy hybrid. How could someone as pure as this youth be testifying against her?

"My mother was infected with the serum created by Miss Glass. For a year, she had to be kept on a ranch outside of the city. I visited her almost every week, but this brought me no comfort. It was like I was spending time with an animal."

Rebecca nearly slapped her forehead. _Of course_ it was like spending time with an animal. Dinosaurs were _literally_ animals. Well, she supposed humans were too, but not in the context of the girl's story.

"I had to care for my mom knowing that I might never speak to her again. It was worse than if she had died. I knew she was somewhere in that body, trapped and afraid. I could see it in her eyes. Try as I might, I couldn't get my mother back until they found a cure for her condition. How can a woman who subjected innocent people to that fate be set free? She has no regard for human life."

Now, that was very, _very_ far from the truth. It was dinosaur life, not human life, that upset Rebecca- or maybe not dinosaur life itself, but the way saurians were treated. If dinosaurs had to exist, fine, but they belonged in zoos and wildlife preserves, like the good old days. This whole mess could have been avoided if society had not welcomed them with open arms. There was a _reason_ they found it so hard to integrate, after all. They were inferior beings, and there was no question about it.

The case went on like this for a while, and Rebecca's anger soon turned to boredom and indifference. She still disagreed with the views expressed in the testimonies, but more than anything, she was irritated that the witnesses were lengthening the process. If you heard one dinosaur sob-story, you'd heard them all, and Rebecca felt that even one was too many. That's why she was caught off guard when it was her turn to speak, and blanked out for a moment before remembering why she was here in the first place. As expected, the mongrel lawyer baited her with questions, the answers to which they had reviewed beforehand. She didn't intend to listen to him, trusting her own judgment over that of a hybrid. She sat tight-lipped (tight-beaked?) with her chin held high.

"Miss Glass, would you care to tell the jury about your time as a nonsentient dinosaur?"

"I don't remember much of it, but I shouldn't have been subjected to such a thing."

"And has the injustice of this situation changed your mind in any way?"

"Well, I realize now that being a dinosaur is even worse than I thought."

The saltiness of her remark was met with a quiet hum from all corners of the room. Although the lawyer did not show it, she could tell that he was seething at her ad-lib.

"Can you elaborate on what you mean when you say it was worse than you thought?"

He was trying to get her back on track. She was supposed to express regret at having treated dinosaurs so poorly, as if somehow being a dinosaur herself had made her realize that they were just like humans. The truth was that it had done the exact opposite, showing her that the separation between the races was greater than she originally thought, and it was all the more shameful to be stuck in the body of a saurian creature.

"It was worse in that I was subjected to indecent activities, such as grazing and being locked in a barn."

"And did you come to a conclusion about how these acts might affect a natural-born dinosaur?"

She leaned back.

"Not really. It's indecent to lock up a human, but a dinosaur is a different story."

Gasps. She could see the lawyer silently willing her to backtrack her statement, but she refused. After a heavy silence, his face loosened a little.

"And have your views on the morality of your act changed at all, if not towards the dinosaur population, then to your own?"

"What?"

"Did you feel differently about subjecting unwilling humans to your serum?"

"It was for the greater good."

The court was buzzing now. It wasn't loud enough to merit calming from the judge, though he seemed to be considering it. The lawyer stared Rebecca down, eyes filled with fury. He clearly was not used to his clients sabotaging his defenses, but then again, he probably served those who were too stupid to know that he was a half-breed fraud. Rebecca gave a confident smirk, which confused him further, but after a beat, his face broke into a sly grin, and she wondered if he had something in mind. He turned away from her seat and began to cross the room slowly.

"Miss Glass, would you care to tell us about your associate, Bo Steel?"

Her heart jumped into her throat. She coughed awkwardly, then composed herself.

"Mr. Steel and I worked together developing the serum."

"Did he plan to use it in the ways you intended?"

"Yes . . . I mean, no. He knew that I was selectively infecting our business rivals, but he never seemed . . ."

She gulped. It was too late to backtrack her little stumble.

". . . he never seemed too keen on the prospect."

"Is that why you poisoned him?"

Rebecca's heart beat a little faster.

"It wasn't poisoning. I injected him with the serum."

"Were you aware of the effects?"

"Of course! What kind of a question-"

"So you knew you were dooming him to a fate worse than death?"

Too late, she realized where he was going with this. She tried to conceal the quaver in her voice, but it came through all the same.

"I knew what would happen, but I didn't think . . . I mean, I could have cured him."

"There was no cure at the time."

"I would have found one."

"Why?"

"Because . . . Because I wanted him to change back."

"Were you concerned for his well-being?"

"Yes."

"As an associate or as your romantic partner?"

 _Oh, no._

"As . . . As my friend."

"According to our sources, you were more than just friends. Is this incorrect?"

"We . . . I mean, we never really made it public, but we were definitely together."

"Did he confirm this?"

"Confirm? What was there to confirm? We were together!"

"Was this by his admission or your own?"

"Both!"

"Did you have sexual relations with Mr. Steel?"

Rebecca snarled.

"That's private!"

"I'll remind you that you're under oath."

Rebecca turned her eyes to the floor, crossing her arms.

"Yes."

"And were these encounters casual in nature?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Were there implications of a greater romantic attachment?"

"We were in a relationship! He loved me!"

"Did he confirm this?"

"All the time! We were inseparable."

"Does that mean he consented to being injected with your serum?"

Rebecca's blood turned to ice. This animal ought to have guessed that she had acted of her own accord, and if he hadn't, he was exactly as stupid as she thought. She had no desire to gloat about this victory, as he had probably just lost her her case. The answer to this one question was enough to make her look like an absolute monster. Of course, it was also true. But there was context, and that should matter. Shouldn't it?

"I . . . I didn't tell him. It wasn't a choice I wanted to make, but there was no other way. I had to infect him, or no one would have believed that the virus selected hosts at random."

"So poisoning the man you loved would conceal the fact that you had been intentionally targeting your victims to further your cause?"

"It wasn't poisoning . . ." Rebecca whispered feebly.

"Can you describe Mr. Steel's final moments as a human?"

This just kept getting worse and worse. It would almost be less painful to just ship her off to jail and be done with it.

"He . . . He sort of looked at me, and said nothing. I don't think he _could_ have, even if he wanted to. But he wouldn't. He wasn't very vocal, not around friends and not around enemies. He wouldn't try to defend himself, even when he knew he was right. He just wanted everyone to get along."

"So he was not angry with your actions?"

"No, not angry. He never got angry, except when he argued with people who attacked . . ."

Her voice cracked.

". . . me."

That's when it happened. Tears began to prick at Rebecca's eyes, and although she tried to convince herself that it was possible to hold them back, part of her knew it was a battle she could not win.

"He'd get into fights with people who insulted me. They were often twice his size. He was short compared to most, but he'd take on anyone if they spoke badly of me. He didn't care whether he won or lost, as long as they didn't get away with their affronts. He just wanted to know that someone was standing up for me."

The tears started trickling down her cheeks, and she knew it was too late to go back. She hated herself for crying. She felt weak and pathetic, but she did not stop talking. She was afraid that if she did, she'd lose the image of Bo that was flashing through her mind, vivid enough to be real. She almost reached out for him, though he wasn't there.

"He'd do anything I said, because he loved me. I worried that I was shaping the person he was becoming, at times, but then he'd smile at me and say something all his own, and I knew that he was still himself, and always would be. Even in the end, he was like that. He never lost the parts of him that I loved."

"And he loved you in return, Rebecca."

"He did," she choked.

"You may have kept your relationship private, but you couldn't conceal it forever. That's why there were reports of you two frequenting the park by your apartment. That's why you never spent the night in your separate residences, both moving from his place to yours, depending on the day. That's why he screamed your name as he was injected with a cure that killed him."

Rebecca looked up suddenly, eyes wide. Her heart was consumed by dread, though she wasn't sure if it was because she suspected the lawyer was lying or telling the truth. She looked into his eyes, and she knew that he was being totally honest. She could hear Bo's voice in her mind, and she tried to shut it out, but she couldn't stop herself from imagining his final moments, during which the person he needed most was absent. They had been torn apart by the effects of her serum, and by her actions in general. More than anything, she wanted to go back in time and find a way out of that terrible web of lies, so that neither of them would succumb to the putrid formula, as they had originally planned. Rebecca's mutation had been an accident, but Bo's was completely intentional, though unanticipated. She had stuck him with the syringe, completely conscious of the immorality of her choice. She had pumped the fluid into his blood, understanding full well what would happen. He had been dead from the moment the needle punctured his skin, and Rebecca had known this without a doubt. It was a murder. She had poisoned him.

And through the thud of this terrible realization, she heard the lawyer going on and on about how it would be pointless to punish her after she'd suffered so much, how she had lost everything that made her cause worthwhile to pursue, and it would be best to let her live out the rest of her days under supervision, so that in time, her heart may heal. Through the rest of the trial, and for a few minutes after, Rebecca did not stop sobbing. It was loud and unrestrained, but the trial did not stop to silence this background noise.

To everyone in the room, she may as well have not been there at all.


	5. Chapter 5

When the trial ended, Rebecca was met with a barrage of flashing lights and overlapping questions outside the courthouse. She answered none, since she was too dazed to think properly. After the stunt her lawyer pulled, she felt not unlike a deer in the headlights, and the cameras certainly weren't helping. The rope was back, too. Someone was dragging her forward by the neck. The lawyer? No, he was still in the building. An executioner? Maybe.

Was she going to be sent to the guillotine?

Did they even use those anymore?

And then the lawyer walked by. Rebecca lowed to get his attention. He looked up from his phone. He seemed surprised that she was communicating with him. She tugged on her rope to move closer, front feet hovering, like a dog on a leash.

"What do I do? What do I do?"

He scoffed.

"Oh, _now_ you want my advice?"

"Please."

He shrugged.

"Do whatever you want. You're free."

Rebecca's eyes went wide.

"I'm free?"

"As a bird. You're welcome, by the way."

She shifted on her feet uncertainly.

"But I have a rope around my neck . . ."

"You'll be well taken care of."

"But-"

"Listen, lady, I can't stay and chat. I have a previous engagement, and to be frank, you're not my problem anymore."

Rebecca mooed as he walked away.

"Wait! . . . Wait! . . ."

She choked as they tugged on her rope.

"Wait . . ."

But he did not wait. No one did. They just threw her in the back of a van, as usual.

And then they brought her to a house. Well, not a house, exactly, but a library. The upper part of the building was an apartment, and a sorry one, at that. It was just a bunch of crummy rooms. Small ones. The kind a more folksy woman might call "quaint" or "cozy". But Rebecca was far from folksy. She was not used to doilies or flowered wallpaper or paintings that looked like they'd come from a thrift store. This was a house that collected dust, and it felt like it was well on its way to being filled with porcelain cats. Blech.

Although she did not belong in this foreign ecosystem, this was now where she would be forced to reside. She was not allowed to leave the city, and the tracking implant they stuck in her flesh would ensure that she wouldn't make it very far if she tried. Rebecca didn't know where this device was located, exactly, but she hoped it wasn't near her brain, or she might be radiated and get some nasty cancer as a result. Not that her captors cared. They could hide behind a veil of charity, setting her up with a job and housing, but it was all a ruse. Their acts of kindness were nothing more than shackles. To force such deplorable conditions on her like she was an animal with no standards whatsoever . . . it was inexcusable.

At the very least, they had provided her with some of her old junk. It was surprising how little she owned, and most of it being clothing, her possessions were of no use to her in this shape.

Mostly.

From one of the boxes, she pulled a long, purple scarf. Her heart dropped. This had been a gift from Bo. He bought it for her as a joke. It was long, ridiculously long . . . only it wasn't anymore. Not when her neck was this thick.

She grimaced and tossed the scarf to the side, disgusted with her dinosaur self. Her frown unraveled, however, when she pulled another item from the box. It was a gold locket with a thin, glimmering chain, but the jewelry itself wasn't what excited her. She was more preoccupied with what was hidden inside.

Potentially.

If these people were clever, they might have discovered and confiscated its contents.

But when Rebecca popped the locket open (with great difficulty, given the size of her hands), she found a single pill. The composition of this capsule was a chemical rough draft, the early version of a medicine that could cure her, and in doing so, cure the world. With refinement, this pill could obliterate the dinosaur race and ensure that humans once again became the dominant species by breeding out inferior organisms. Having no access to a lab, it would be difficult to replicate the formula that went into this medication, but with a little dedication, she could do it.

And then she would be human again.

Rebecca took a quick breath and closed the locket, looking from left to right with paranoia. This necklace was her last hope of going back to the way things were. She would have to wait until she was out of the public eye before refining her creation, or she'd risk losing it forever.

For now, she decided it would be best to play their game, and that included carrying out the duties of a librarian. It shouldn't be too hard, she thought. Basically, all she had to do was sit at the front counter and pretend to be useful while she drained the taxpayer's pockets. It was simple.

Rebecca inhaled deeply and sat down.

There was a chime at the entrance. The door opened, revealing a short, green dinosaur with two crests. Before he could take a single step inside, Rebecca leaned forward with a sneer.

"Buzz off. We don't serve your kind here."

He shrunk away, shocked.

"I thought this was a public library."

"What business does a dinosaur have reading?"

He seemed confused by her comment, and it took her a moment to realize why. He didn't mention her blunder, however.

"Look, I know I'm a carnivore, but I'm not _that_ kind of carnivore. I'm perfectly tame, as most of us are."

"Get out."

"What?"

"Are you deaf?"

"No, but-"

"Get out!"

He scampered out the door. Rebecca sneered.

"Lousy spitter."

For a moment, he peered at her from the shop window, but when she gave him an ice-cold stare, he jumped and continued on his way. Rebecca sighed, rolling her eyes before pulling out a book to pass the time. Steinbeck was always a suitable option, and she'd seen a couple of his novels lying around. She picked one up and began to read. Before she could get past the first page, the door opened once more, this time revealing a middle-aged woman with a sideways hat. Rebecca smiled.

"Good morning."

"Mhm."

The woman walked past her. Rebecca blinked.

"Do you need help with anything?"

"No."

She chuckled quietly.

"It's just as well. Today is my first-"

The woman disappeared behind a bookshelf. Rebecca trailed off in an awkward hum. When the customer returned, she was carrying three books. She plopped them down on the desk unceremoniously.

"I'll take these. How long do I get them for?"

"I don't know."

The woman tilted her head.

"Well, can you check? . . ."

There was something patronizing in her tone. Rebecca ignored it and tried to use the computer, which looked like it had been invented in the Stone Age. After clicking a few pixelated icons, she sighed.

"I don't know how to work this thing."

The woman frowned. Rebecca shrugged helplessly.

"I'm sorry. They just dumped me in this job. I didn't have much choice in the matter. Take the books. You can return them whenever."

"Why'd they hire you, anyway?"

Her tone indicated that there was more to her remark than she was letting on. Having expressed similar thoughts may times, Rebecca detected this subtlety and smiled knowingly.

"I'm not a dinosaur, you know."

"What?"

"I was changed against my will. I'm actually a normal woman, like you."

"Still too dull to operate a computer, though."

Rebecca's mouth hung open. The lady was out of the shop before she had a chance to reply. Shaken by the encounter, she picked up her book hesitantly. She read the same sentence five times over before realizing that her mind was wandering. Well, that couldn't be helped. On top of the woman's rudeness, she was feeling rather hungry. She was sure no one would fault her for taking a break.

After fashioning a crude "back in five minutes" sign out of notebook paper, Rebecca took a stroll down the road, bringing her new purse. It was a dreadful-looking thing, but it got the job done. She felt rather self-conscious, not just because of the bag, but also because this was her first time out in public as a dinosaur- aside from the court stairs, of course, though she wasn't sure that counted. She hunched her shoulders instinctively when people passed, looking ridiculous as she tried to make herself small. She hadn't noticed how wide she was before, but now that humans were nearby for scale . . .

Rebecca entered a small shop that was less crowded than the fancy delis. She waddled past two dinosaurs who were having some sort of historical discussion.

"-used to pour beer on their crotches in the olden days."

"Sounds rough."

"No, there's a reason. See, the pH value of a Stegoceratops is different from that of a human, so by exposing that area to beer, it's shaming male dinosaurs who date humans. It contracts, you know."

The first dinosaur winced.

"I guess that has to do with the foamy layer I keep hearing about . . ."

Rebecca marched past them and examined the ready-made salads behind the counter. The cashier was watching a news story on a crummy television set that was far too loud and tinny. On the screen, a blonde woman was being interviewed by a lady in a blue blazer.

'-possibly the worst administration since that of Daisy Top, and we all know how _that_ turned out . . .'

'But really, it was a period of change,' the blazer woman argued, "The economy was suffering after the integration of dinosaurs, so you can't blame people for pushing back.'

'You can't put a price on basic rights.'

Rebecca waved to the cashier.

"Hi, hello. I'm ready to order."

He flapped his hand dismissively.

"Yeah, yeah. Just a second."

Rebecca batted her eyes, somewhat offended. After a pause, the man swiveled around on his stool.

"Whaddya want?"

She smiled pleasantly.

"Just Caesar will be fine."

"How many?"

Rebecca laughed.

"One."

The man looked her over. Rebecca realized that she must appear significantly larger than a human, and perhaps it was normal for a dinosaur to eat more. She wasn't fond of this new biology, but she would have to deal with it, nonetheless.

"Actually, how many would you recommend?"

"Dinosaurs usually take five."

"Five?!"

"Yeah, but that's mostly the steggers. A trike like you could do with four."

"I'm not a triceratops."

"What are you, then?"

"I forget."

He gave her a funny look.

"Alright. Should I ring up four?"

"Let's try three."

"That'll be thirty dollars, more or less."

Rebecca's eyes went wide.

"WHAT?!"

"Three salads. Ten bucks each. This is the cheapest you'll find, I guarantee."

Rebecca bit her beak and leaned forward to whisper, eyes darting back and forth from the cashier to the other customers, who were still wrapped up in their own conversations.

"You don't . . . You don't happen to have a dinosaur discount, do you?"

She couldn't believe these words were coming from her mouth. She felt sick to her stomach.

The man laughed.

"Lady, we don't give handouts. You gotta pay like the rest of us."

"But thirty dollars is a lot."

"So? You're big."

Rebecca huffed.

"I can't afford that unless I get my old job back, and it's still ludicrous!"

"Maybe you shouldn't have gotten yourself fired."

Her jaw dropped.

"What? I wasn't fired! I was- Nevermind. Just tell me if there's a way to get cheaper food."

"Go to McDonald's."

"Very funny. I want a salad. A good one. Where can I get a discount?"

He leaned on the counter with a condescending smile.

"Sweetheart, the world isn't gonna cut you a break. If you want good food, you just gotta work harder."

Rebecca pulled her head back.

"That's not fair! I need this food to live! Surely, I deserve basic necessities."

"Not if you can't afford them."

"I have a right to be provided with-"

She stopped herself. After letting her jaw hang open for a moment, she gulped and pulled out her wallet.

"I'll take one."

"Fifteen."

"You said ten!"

"Fifteen for giving me trouble. My store, my rules."

Her beak quivered.

"I'm hungry . . ."

"You could stand to lose a few pounds. The truth hurts, honey, but you can't expect to be given special treatment just because you're a dinosaur."

Rebecca took a shaky breath.

"I didn't want special treatment. I just wanted a salad."

"Well, come back when you have an appetite for one or thirty dollars to spare. Your decision."

She turned away sadly and lumbered out of the store. Before she left, the cashier laughed and turned up his television set.

"It's lucky dinosaurs don't need tampons, huh?"

She hadn't even thought about that, but she supposed it was true. Maybe it would all balance out in the end. She would buy more food, but spend less on . . . human things. She had no excuse, really.

But when she returned to the library, she couldn't stop herself from bursting into tears.


	6. Chapter 6

Rebecca is not focused on her orange juice, which may or may not be ironic, since it could be concentrate. She has her eye on a relatively handsome human male who frequents the cafe she's eating at (and she's actually there just because _he_ is), but she's a little nervous about striking up a conversation. She saw him talking to a saurian the other day- the kind with the long crest on its head- but she's not sure if he'd be interested in her. She's still a dinosaur, and not a very appealing one, as far as looks go. In her opinion, at least.

She hasn't been focusing on her cure-formula recently, since a great deal of dead ends and close scrapes with the agency observing her dissuaded these efforts many times, and although she hates to admit it, she's been trying less and less to fix herself, and is beginning to settle. It's been five years, after all, and it could very well take five more to even get close to cooking up a pill with no side-effects, not to mention the repercussions of changing under such heavy supervision. She could be locked up in jail, which would waste another chunk of her life, and . . . Well, she can't afford to let that happen. She's getting old. Not _elderly_ old, but her biological clock is ticking. Would she even want to have a child in this body? Probably not, as she's never been too interested in kids anyway, but she's been feeling very ugly as of late, and she would greatly appreciate a sign that she's not going to spend the rest of her life alone and become a cat lady or something. All she wants is one scrap of proof that she hasn't reached her cutoff date yet.

So she stands up. Her legs are shaking, and she wonders why she's so afraid to talk to him. He's just a normal human being, after all. But she's not. Maybe if she was, she'd feel more hopeful. Compared to before she was a dinosaur, her odds of being rejected have increased enormously. She's almost certain that her heart is about to be broken.

Just when she thinks this is going to be the lowlight of her day, she is proven wrong. Very, very wrong.

A bone-shattering sound rattles the street, shaking windows in their frames and making loose bricks tremble. Rebecca turns towards the noise before she even knows where it came from- something inside of her must have sensed its direction- and she sees smoke. A lot of it.

Others are frozen in place, staring up at the chaos with open mouths and wide eyes like she is, but she doesn't notice them. She doesn't know whether to run towards the danger zone or away from it, but she realizes that she's sprinting forward already. She doesn't want to believe that what she's seeing is real, and she tries to tell herself that the cloud of smoke isn't connected to the building it's surrounding. It can't be. Why would it be? But the tallest tower in the city is coughing up a pale mass of ash and god knows what else, and everything has stopped. Fences and borders mean nothing now, and everyone is given a free pass to travel as they please. Cars aren't moving, but people are. They're running like she is, as if they were a colony of ants who had just witnessed their hill being kicked over by a child. There's scrambling with a surprisingly low amount of pushing and shoving, but it's all happening very fast, and if this stampede is orderly, it's not purposefully so.

They reach the building one by one, and Rebecca is a little faster than the other people at the cafe. She's not sure if she's blinked since the impact, but she's still staring up at the tower, and she realizes- she should have understood this before- she realizes that people are dead. And dying. There are jumpers. They're landing in the streets. One falls on a firefighter.

For a second, Rebecca wonders how anyone could possibly expect to extinguish and repair something this devastating. And then she realizes that they won't. This is the end of the tower. The sentinel that stood in the city's skyline, this constant that Rebecca never thought about, this fundamental part of the space she occupied that could never be altered or removed, is being destroyed. She doesn't know why this is happening, or what's going on, exactly, but she realizes there are people still inside, and- Oh god. There are people trapped above the zone of impact. Those are the ones jumping. But the people underneath it . . .

She darts forward impulsively, watching as rescue teams bring out unconscious bodies. She wants to ask if she can help or if she'd get in the way, and she's sure that her size is both an obstacle and a blessing, since she could theoretically carry many people, only she might not fit in small spaces- What is she doing? What should she be doing? She's been standing still for a while, which is the worst thing she can possibly do, but she just doesn't know where to start.

Two people are fighting. A dinosaur and a human. They're shouting and hissing at each other, and Rebecca wants to run between them and scream at the top of her lungs that there's a smoking building a few yards away, and their petty argument is meaningless right now- or at any time, really- but she gets into a quarrel of her own. A human steps in front of her, waving her purse angrily, and shouts at the top of her lungs. Her face is red and her jaw is sticking out, and Rebecca wonders if she's standing in the wrong place or blocking someone's path.

"YOU FILTHY DINOSAUR! YOU'RE THE ONE WHO DID THIS! YOU AND YOUR KIND! YOU'VE KILLED US! YOU'VE KILLED US!"

A dinosaur with a thick snout rams into her.

"Ignorant woman! This was _your_ doing! _You_ attacked _us_ , not the other way around!"

Rebecca is confused. Neither of these people is to blame, she's sure. They didn't personally attack the tower, and they both seem equally upset. Shouldn't it be obvious that they're on the same side? Is she missing something?

The woman screams.

"DISGUSTING ANIMAL! IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN YOU UP THERE!"

Rebecca's mouth opens and closes rapidly.

"I- I didn't-"

Someone runs between them. She's shouting too, but not at anyone in particular.

"My husband's inside! My husband's inside!"

And Rebecca hears more voices.

"Help! My daughter is on the eleventh floor!"

"Have you seen my brother?!"

"Where's Parker?! Is Parker here?!"

"MARY! MARY!"

"My son!"

"My daughter!"

"Find them!"

"Help him, please, somebody help him!"

"He's trapped up there!"

"No, listen, she just called me!"

"Please, oh god . . ."

"No!"

And standing there in the middle of the chaos, Rebecca hears her own breathing, and she looks at the people around her, who are hyperventilating as well, and although it sounds ridiculous, for a moment she forgets that there are dinosaurs and humans surrounding her. All she sees are frightened faces, and it's impossible to tell them apart, though they're all different. She wonders why the differences between some mattered to her more than others. The lady with the purse beats her suddenly, and she trumpets involuntarily before running away. She hides in a nearby alley, sobbing fearfully.

She isn't sure how long she stays there, but when she emerges to make herself useful, the tower collapses. It's the most devastating sight she's ever laid eyes upon, and she's so shocked that she doesn't see the cloud approaching her until it's only a few feet away. She is caked with ash and speckled with rubble. She chokes on the smoke and throws up in the street, but not because of the fumes. It's quite possible that the powder on her body came not only from concrete, but from living creatures. People. She is covered in someone's remains.

She stumbles home, throwing up once again before opening her front door, neglecting to close it behind her. She lies in the middle of the library, surrounded by silent books that have not known the gravity of this recent occurrence. They exist in a time before this moment, and Rebecca has become an intruder in this archive of innocence. She curls up and weeps, tears cutting through the ash on her cheeks.

There is an empty patch of sky where the tower once stood.


	7. Chapter 7

Three years shy of two decades, Rebecca's life after the attack has changed only in ways that remain invisible to the people she knows. Truth be told, she's not close enough with anyone that she'd be able to open up about it. The closest she came to disclosing her inner turmoil was when she struck up a conversation with a customer (the only one for three weeks) and unintentionally confessed that she was afraid of being unattractive and dying alone. She's had this worry ever since she turned forty, and now it's six years past that point, which rounded up indicates that her life is half over. This discussion seemed to make the customer uncomfortable, and she left shortly after.

Rebecca does not have any friends, and come to think of it, she didn't have that many as a human, either. None that would still be willing to put up with her as a dinosaur, anyway. Maybe they were never really her friends at all. Well, except for Bo, but he was gone, so there was no use in dwelling on their relationship.

Rebecca prefers to block out painful memories. It's what's gotten her through these confusing times. There are moments when she's not sure what to think, because while this whole "dinosaur acceptance" movement is still leftist nonsense in her opinion, she can't help but feel that she's seeing things differently, now that she's a dinosaur herself. She tries to justify her need to be treated well by the fact that she's a human in a dinosaur's body, but she has moments of doubt. Even so, she can't back down after spending her entire life fighting for one specific cause.

One night, as she lay tossing and turning in bed, Rebecca had a dream . . . only, it didn't feel like a dream, because she knew she was only half asleep, and the vision playing in her mind was being called up consciously. If anything, this was a memory shown through the filter of a half-dream, and if it was a memory, it was real.

Rebecca remembered being in a barn. She was chewing on something that had a bitter-bland flavor. When she reached for another mouthful, she found that there was none left. She looked around with a blank stare, but her segment of the stable was devoid of food or enrichment. She only had room to turn, in fact, and she had to bend her tail to do it.

But then she heard a gentle clink. She peeked over the gate of her stall and saw a blue dinosaur with an armored back chewing on her lock. Maybe not chewing. He was doing something, anyway. The little latch was in his mouth, and he seemed to be fiddling with it. Rebecca couldn't care less, since he had no food, but then, he lifted a peg out of the metal piece, and her door swung open gently. She lumbered out, looking for something to eat, but the other dinosaur grunted to get her attention. She turned and looked into his eyes- eyes that the human part of her recognized- and something hidden deep inside her dinosaur mind urged her to follow him. So she did.

It was cold out, which was an unfortunate side effect of the beautiful landscape. The winter scene sparkled with snow so cold that it burned, and Rebecca wanted to return to her stall, but the strange dinosaur moaned, his breath coming out in a cloud that was extra visible against the dark outline of the forest near the ranch. She continued to tail him.

When they reached a river that was still flowing despite the winter weather, the dinosaur stopped. He lay on his stomach, nestled peacefully in the snow. Rebecca stood beside him. When she followed his gaze, she saw a weeping willow on the hill across from them. It sparkled with tiny droplets of ice, glowing in the light of a full moon. She wasn't sure why, but this tree gave her comfort. She sat beside the dinosaur, and they stared up at the frosty branches with eyes that seemed fuller than usual.

Rebecca drew in a sharp breath and sat up in bed with wide eyes. She started shaking.

It was Bo. She _knew_ it was Bo. There was no other explanation.

Part of her wanted to believe she was mistaken. Another part wanted to trust in this story so fiercely that it struggled to prove it for certain. This side won, though she wasn't sure how to feel about this revelation. Should she be happy that they had shared one last moment together, even if neither of them was fully aware of their circumstances? Bo must have remembered her on a subconscious level, which meant he didn't die hating her. This brought her great joy, but also made her feel selfish and guilty. She tried to will herself back into that dreamworld so she could communicate with him, but obviously it was a moment long-passed, and that would be impossible. She began to feel even more ridiculous when she realized that she ought to be wishing herself back to her human body, but somehow, this memory she had only just recalled felt more existent than life itself. But she returned to her dark room, shivering beneath thin blankets and shaking tears from her eyelids. She hugged her knees and began to sob.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I killed you. It was my fault . . ."

She sniffed.

"My fault."

If she had neighbors, she was sure they would hear her high-pitched hiccoughs, but she didn't really care at the moment. She kept thinking about that last tender moment she'd shared with the man she loved, and despised herself for not waking up and realizing how much it should have meant to her . . . how much _he_ should have meant to her. He was the only person she could ever trust, and she could count on his support even when she was completely in the wrong. But she'd kicked him around like some useless animal and betrayed him when he needed her most. And he'd never know how much she loved him. His last memories of her would be tainted by the betrayal she had never apologized for.

With a frantic sniffle, Rebecca leapt out of bed and grabbed her scarf. She pattered down the stairs and galloped out the front door, shivering in the cold, winter air. She stood on the sidewalk, beak trembling. She wasn't sure what she had planned to do, but gradually, it began to snow, and she was flooded with more memories- direct ones, this time. She closed her eyes and remembered the gentle, yellow glow of shop windows as she passed them with Bo by her side. She remembered the scarf he'd bought for her, which she was still wearing, and how warm it made her feel, though her glasses were fogged and her fingers numb. She remembered their walk through the park, how he'd carved her name into a rock beneath an old willow. She opened her eyes.

She ran down the road, breath puffing out like a train's chimney. Her feet thumped on the snow-caked concrete, slipping where it was icy, but getting a grip on packed frost. She ran until she reached the park, then traveled a massive distance, crossing bridges and passing gazebos. The whole time, she feared she would never reach the tree, and if it wasn't there, she would have no way of knowing if any of it was real.

But then she saw it.

She skidded to a stop, staring at the hanging branches, and saw the ghosts of herself and Bo standing beneath it. She remembered exactly how he looked when he'd knelt down to carve their names. She had glanced over her shoulder nervously, telling him they'd get in trouble if they were caught, but he refused to carve just their initials, since he hated his. When he stood up, she saw "Bo" and "Becky" engraved into the stone, and stuck out her tongue. She knew he called her that just to piss her off. He smiled with abnormally white teeth, then stood up on his tiptoes to give her a kiss. He never seemed to mind being shorter than her. How could he, when he was so in love that he'd never find a reason to be spiteful?

Rebecca ran over to a lump in the snow. She almost wanted to leave it covered, but when she brushed off a thick layer of powder, sure enough, their names were still on that same rock. She stared at it for a moment, biting her beak, then collapsed over the boulder and started crying. Her tears ran down the curved, rough surface, filling in the letters, which she was alarmed to see were starting to wear away. With time, every bit of evidence that Bo had been alive and had loved her would be gone.

She was so upset that she didn't hear the sound of hooves until they were directly behind her. She turned and saw a hybrid on a horse- an old man by the looks of it- whose face was pulled into the permanent, frightening grimace of a human-carnivore. She was terrified by the sight of him, and the badge on his shoulder only made matters worse. Surprisingly, his expression became one of concern.

"Are you okay, Ma'am?"

She whimpered.

"I . . . I was . . . I wanted to know if the rock was still here."

He leaned forward on his horse, smiling jovially.

"Well, well, well. It looks like I finally caught the bandit who vandalized public property so many years ago."

"I didn't-"

"Relax, honey, I'm joking. I wouldn't take you in for something you did over a decade ago. I always wondered about that rock. Did you dull your knife trying to cut through it?"

She sniffled.

"I- I wasn't the one who wrote on the- on the rock. It was- It was my boyfriend."

Slowly, the corners of the officer's mouth sagged. He exhaled, eyes warm with understanding.

"You know, I don't think anyone would notice if that rock went missing."

Rebecca batted her eyes.

"Are you saying- But you're supposed to be guarding this park!"

She thought about it.

"Is it because I'm a dinosaur?"

He shook his head.

"No, that'd be ridiculous. I don't hand out favors to people who look like me. What matters is what's inside, and I think a great deal of us have lost someone we loved dearly. If you need this, I won't deny you your closure."

Rebecca gulped and nodded slowly.

"Thank you."

"Don't worry about it. Get inside soon, okay? It's mighty cold out."

He led his horse away, but tugged on the reins gently after a few paces.

"Do you need help carrying it?"

She shook her head.

"No, I'm big enough."

He grinned.

"Alright. See you around."

She smiled faintly and turned to dig out the rock. When the dirt around it was mostly torn apart (it was frozen in clumps), she lifted the stone onto her back and carried it to the city. As she rounded a corner, she bumped into her old lawyer, of all people. She gave a startled moo, and he dropped his groceries. She bent down to help gather them, and he looked like his mind had just shattered into a million pieces.

"Miss Glass? . . ."

"I'm sorry. I didn't see you. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"I suppose . . ."

"You don't usually run into the same person twice in this city. How have you been?"

"Fine . . ."

She gathered up the last of his things.

"Sorry again. I hope nothing broke. Why were you getting groceries so late, if you don't mind me asking?"

"The kids ate all the food in the house while I was out with my wife."

Rebecca's eyes went wide.

"You got married?"

"Always was."

She blinked several times, trying to put the pieces together.

"But you said- I mean, I thought- the way you talked about the jury-"

He sighed.

"Listen, I know you normals can't tell the difference, but if you talk to a lawyer on the job, you're probably not gonna get the truth out of him."

She gazed at him with wonderment.

"I find it really hard to imagine you as a family man."

"I assume that's because of my looks, not my talent for fibbing, but I choose to believe the latter."

Rebecca bit her lower beak, then took a deep breath.

"I never thanked you."

"For what?"

"Winning my trial. You saved my life."

"It was my job."

"I know, but . . . I don't think it was easy for you. I didn't _make_ it easy, anyway. I don't think any less of you for defending a person like me."

He shrugged.

"Well, none of that matters when you have three kids to feed. Can't imagine what hell I'm in for once the fourth gets here."

"Oh, are you expecting?"

"Mhm. The Mrs. is due in February."

"Congratulations! Girl or boy?"

"We decided to leave it as a surprise. I'm hoping for boy."

"Well, let me know when you find out!"

She realized what she was saying.

"I mean . . . You don't have to . . . You don't . . ."

"I still have your number. If all else fails, I'll just pop into the library."

She met his gaze.

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me," he said with a smile, "I'm paid to be nice to people I hate. Anyway, have a good evening, and Merry Christmas!"

Rebecca nodded.

"Merry Christmas."

She carried her rock back to the library. Once inside, she washed it off and dried it with her best towel before placing it below the front desk. She wanted to see it as much as possible.

Over the next few months, she made a vow to change her way of thinking. For once, she was ready to make a conscious effort to be a better person, and that meant accepting those she'd usually dismiss based on their looks alone. She got used to speaking to hybrids in public areas, and though their faces still frightened her, she was able to conceal her discomfort so well that she might as well have been species-blind. It got to the point where she felt she was ready to face unusual customers, and one rainy day, she did just that. She was sitting at the front desk when the door swung open, making the bell dance violently on its hook. A hideous saurian stepped through the front door, and her exposed teeth made Rebecca's stomach flip. She stared at the girl's matted hair and yellow sclera, and realized they were making eye contact. She struggled to come up with a kind phrase that would cancel out her horrified stare, proving once and for all that she had changed.

"You're all wet."

Meh. Close enough.

 **The End**


End file.
